Apocalypse
by Scatterbrie
Summary: Natasha wakes up to find her world in flames and ruin. A stranger watches as she attempts to find Clint and to uncover the truth. Just a short fic I wanted to write.
1. Chapter 1

Something was wrong.

Natasha could feel it in the furthest reaches of her nerves, the hairs on the backs of her neck standing on end. A metallic tang in the air and an eerie silence surrounded her as she gripped the bedsheets around her. She sat up smartly.

Clint.

Natasha leapt fluidly onto her feet, adopting a feline-like wariness as she started searching around the apartment for her partner. He wasn't meant to leave, he always slept later than her, and he would have left a note if he'd gone off on his own.

Natasha tiptoed down to the living room, her bare feet tapping on the wooden floorboards. The living room was in the same pristine state they'd always left it in. And it still felt wrong.

A heavy ball of worry and fear grew in Natasha's stomach, and she tried to swallow down the bile rising in her throat. There was no need to worry, she kept on reminding herself. There's nothing wrong. Natasha dragged in deep breaths as she tried to maintain her composure. It was deeper and more serious than her partner disappearing, this she could tell. Natasha paced around her kitchen in her nightgown, stepping between the bars of light piercing the room in between the metal slats on the window.

The lack of noise from outside shouted at Natasha like the ear-splitting silence caused by an explosion. It drew her to the metal blinds obscuring the window, and the light streaked across her porcelain face and danced across her messy, auburn ringlets. She hesitated a moment before pressing the control at the side of the window. With a soft click and a –beep – the blinds started rolling up the window, revealing the morning outside.

What Natasha saw then made her abdomen clench and her knees buckle. Her gastroesophageal reflux heaved and tightened, and she couldn't stop herself from vomiting on the floor out of pure shock. Smoke billowed from shattered apartment buildings into a sulphuric coloured sky, and small houses were burnt to the ground. Heavy purple clouds trembled and threatened to break over the small city, small rumbles of thunder escaping into the otherwise silent scene. No people were in sight, and nothing moved, apart from the rubble which littered the floor, being picked up by the wind and carried across the block. It was a scene of devastation. Of an apocalypse. 


	2. Chapter 2

Natasha struggled for breath as she ran back into the comfort of her apartment. How had this happened? Various thoughts raced through her mind, from meteorite strikes to bombings. How had she slept through this, whatever it was? She braced herself against the kitchen counter, her arms rigid in front of her for support, her eyes clenched tight. Her little finger brushed against something cold and she flinched away from it in surprise. It was a bottle. A bottle of sleeping pills. Her shaking hand gripped the bottle as she read the label. Who had done this? Someone who wanted to keep her away from danger? Surely not, the danger had just scraped past her – the apartment just above her was devastated. She threw the damned bottle against the wall, tears threatening to burst out of her in anger and frustration. She ripped open a cabinet door and reached for a bag. She was going to find out where Clint was, and then they were going to figure out what happened. But first, she wanted to find some civilisation. Natasha planted the bag on the tabletop, before reaching for a couple of semi-automatic shotguns, and as many cartridges as she could carry. She slipped on her Black cat suit, and adopted one of Clint's camouflage jackets. Natasha packed a couple of blankets in the bag, and then she opened the secret store that Clint had installed. The safe contained supplies for an emergency situation, and if this didn't count as an emergency, Natasha didn't know what did. She took out the rations and the first aid, and closed the door, before stuffing the rest of the supplies into the bag. She put the sleeping pills into the first aid bag. Natasha wanted to find out who had given them to her, because it sure as hell wouldn't have been Clint. She zipped up the bag and left it with the rest of the supplies, before walking into the kitchen and gathering the rest of the supplies that she needed. She may be gone for a while.

She was ready to leave.

Natasha slung the now heavy bag over her shoulder, before slotting her two favourite handguns into their respective holsters, and switching off the light to her apartment. She didn't want to look back; she could only look forward from now on. Natasha closed the door behind her as she left her apartment for the last time.

A tall dark figure stood in an apartment. Memories of sentiment and warmth came flooding back to him, but he suppressed these thoughts with a grim smile. He clutched his staff and swung his cape over the empty cot, which might have once held a newborn baby. Or perhaps the couple were still expecting. It was difficult to tell when the bodies in question were burnt to a crisp.

The figure surveyed the damage to the small city. It was so easy. He was looking over the smoking buildings and the craters in the ground, when suddenly; a light flickering off caught his attention, coming from the only apartment that hadn't been burnt down. The figure smiled.

She was awake.


End file.
